


Slippery Slope.

by wily_one24



Category: Veronica Mars (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-11-11
Updated: 2006-11-11
Packaged: 2017-11-05 11:48:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,744
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/406055
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wily_one24/pseuds/wily_one24
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>She doesn’t understand and she understands all too well.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Slippery Slope.

Okay, this was written in about an hour, a quick hard fic against the wall, after a somewhat depressing IM conversation. I think you can guess what it's about.

 **Title:** Slippery Slope.  
 **Author:** Jacqui [](http://wily-one24.livejournal.com/profile)[**wily_one24**](http://wily-one24.livejournal.com/)  
 **Pairing/Character:** Veronica/Logan, hints of: Veronica/Weevil, Veronica/Piz.  
 **Word Count:** 3638.  
 **Rating:** R.  
 **Summary:** She doesn’t understand and she understands all too well.  
 **Spoilers:** Everything. I’m talking the  previews for 3.07 ‘Of Vice and Men’ and situations from 3.06. ‘Hi, Infidelity’. Be warned, this has spoilers.  
 **Warnings:** Um, spoilers. And mass confusion.  
 **Disclaimer:** Yeah, not mine. I don’t own squat.

*~*~*~*  
 **SLIPPERY SLOPE**  
*~*~*~*

 

“You could stay.”

It’s a slippery slope and she wonders exactly where it began.

One day ago, she felt her stomach clench around the scent of burning, rubbery eggs as she stared at her father’s empty room. She knew the answers that would spring from his mouth before he even spoke to her. _It makes me feel good about myself_ , _I need this for me_ and the ever popular _It’s not as simple as black and white, you wouldn’t understand_.

But that’s the climax, not the beginning.

She doesn’t understand and she understands all too well.

Maybe it began months ago, watching Kendall slide her hand down Logan’s belly. Or months before that, seeing Duncan sitting in that hospital chair. Maybe it was sitting across from Jake Kane and trying not to see any resemblance to the face she saw in the mirror. Hearing her mom’s weak voice pleading for understanding.

Or maybe it’s always been there, maybe it began years and years ago, the splitting of the ovum, one zygote into two, then four, then a trillion shimmering cells inside an adulterous womb.

“Why do you do that?” It’s an honest, too earnest question, nervousness shaking her voice as she masks with a quick brush of her hair behind her ear. “Why do you keep flirting with me?”

Piz laughs, soft and breathless and guilty, a cover, and his eyes flicker back and forth like he’s just been caught red handed. His head shakes in a denial, but that’s softer than his laugh and neither of them believes it.

“I have a boyfriend.” Her shoulders sag and she doesn’t feel like she has any strength anymore. “You’ve met him.”

“Because…” He swallows it back, like he instantly regrets almost answering, then he sighs, looking her straight in the eye. “Because I like you, Veronica.”

She can’t stand anymore and her knees give out, dropping her carelessly to Wallace’s bed. Her spine curves and she dips her head down to her knees, taking a deep breath before sitting straight up again. She thinks she’s about to crack.

“That’s not enough.” It’s a whisper and she wonders if she’s said it out loud. “It’s not…”

But he’s been given an in and he looks like a little kid in a candy store, his face all eager and excited.

“You’re the most beautiful girl here. And you’re so alive.” It comes rushing out like he’s been holding it in for a while. “I look at you and it makes me smile.”

His words curl in her belly, deep and thick and she thinks she hates them as much as she recognizes them for what they are, for what they used to be. Logan’s words upon a time, Duncan’s. Pretty and pleasing and adoring.

But she doesn’t fall for it anymore. She’s been there and done that and it’s not doing anything for her. What she wants is to step back, just far enough to be able to look at someone and say, that’s who I want to be. She had that person, once, she’s sure of it.

Before she begged him not to fall and he did anyway.

“You don’t even know me.” It’s an accusation and a dare, maybe even an admission of guilt on her part; because how could anyone know her if she doesn’t know herself? “I’m such a mess, you don’t even know the half of it.”

“I like messes.” He nods eagerly, eyes bright. “Have you seen my hair?”

It’s a slight chuckle, bitter and acrid as he sits up further, leaning towards her. There isn’t enough space between the beds for this, no more than three feet between them. She wants to fall back on the bed and curl up into the covers, just roll them around and around until she can barely breathe. Stay there for days.

“Do you know what you sound like?” Her tongue tastes like salt. “God, do you even…?”

But her words stop, because he’s there and it’s never been about action with her, more inaction, and she doesn’t do anything as he settles his hand on the curve of her cheek and brushes her lips with his thumb. Her knees shake as he kneels in front of her, his hips awkwardly bending to avoid pressing into her.

He kisses like he talks, nervous and soft and worshipful, scared and hopeful and slightly needy.

“I… have…” Her voice scratches to get out. “… A… Logan.”

His name rips through her like a violent bolt of lightning, burning the very edges of her nerves, and she begins to push Piz, hands scrabbling uselessly against his shoulders and bile burning the back of her throat as she twists her face away.

“I’m sorry.” He’s quick to pull back, lifting his hands away from her as if burned. “I didn’t mean…”

Her knees haven’t stopped shaking, but she forces herself to stand, frantically thrusting clothes into her bag.

“I have a boyfriend.” The words could be cruel, but they sound too much like an apology. “I have Logan, and I can’t be here.”

The doorknob slips in her hands and she nearly cries in frustration until she can finally slide through, closing the door and trying not to see the wounded expression on Piz’ face, like she just ran over his puppy.

Veronica cries, big messy throaty sobs, all the way to her car.

***

Her keys tremble in her hands and she leans her forehead against the cool glass of the driver’s side window. Her eyes peer in and, in the shadows, she can see a tiny little animal, a small stuffed toy that Logan gave her, hanging from the mirror.

Her lungs burn as she struggles to take in great gasps of air.

“V!” The voice makes her fingers curl in and her nails scratch at the roof paint. “What the hell?”

“Hey.” Her hand scrapes ineffectually at the heated flush of her cheeks, doing nothing more than smearing the tears around, before she turns with a fake smile. “Hey Weevs.”

His eyes are deep and they scan her from head to foot and back again, bright with worry.

“You shouldn’t be out here like that.”

At the curl of his lip, she looks down and sees the tiny shorts she’d been lounging about the dorm room in. Her eyes fly to a small crowd of people who turn away too obviously not to have been watching her.

“I didn’t…” It sticks in her throat, threatening to bubble up. “It’s not… I had to go...”

She’s not making sense and she knows it as she watches his head quirk to the left, as if tilting it will allow him to hear the words she’s not saying. Her cheeks burn under his scrutiny.

“Seriously, V, you alright?”

The obvious concern in his voice, in the warm pool of his eyes, is such a contrast to the ice that had seeped from him the week before; it makes her swallow deeply.

“No.” Her head shakes a little. “Nowhere near it.”

“Here.” He doesn’t wait for her to answer as he grabs the keys out of her hand and opens the door. “Get in, I’ll drive you.”

She’s limp and pliant and allows herself to be shuffled into the passenger seat of her own car. It’s like everything is moving in slow motion and she can’t stop it. Her skull falls back on the headrest and only her eyes move as she watches him pick up her backpack and circle in front of the car, around to the driver’s seat.

They’re half way there before she realizes where they’re going.

“No!” It’s a sudden cry and his fingers clutch the wheel hard before he relaxes and turns to her. “I… I don’t want to go home.”

“Okay, then.” He shrugs and if she couldn’t see the tenseness of his shoulders, she’d almost believe the casual. “Where to, The Grand?”

Her bottom lip quivers again and all she can do is shake her head.

“Ooookay.” They swerve with the car when he pulls into a u-turn and she begins to breathe easier. “I think I’m outta my depths here. You gonna tell me what’s wrong?”

She follows the line of trees and cars on the side of the road as they pass. She knows this landscape and the familiarity of it soothes her. At least some things stay the same. The fingernails of her right hand scratch at the inside of the window. Her legs fold up onto the seat and she leans her ear onto her knees as she wraps her wrists around her shins and shivers.

Her pulse echoes through the cartilage of her ear.

He doesn’t push her for an answer, just gently pulls her car into park and sits there, waiting. Through the windscreen, she watches dark waves crash on the beach in front of them. Their breathing evens out and she can feel him inhale when she does, even though she’s not looking.

The sun makes her arms prickle and she sniffles.

He tries to check his watch without being obvious.

“Weevil?” It’s soft and barely there, her eventual words. “Do you think I’m a good person?”

“Shit, are you kidding me?” It comes out as an exhalation, a laugh choked back, sudden and too loud after the silence in the car. He turns to her with an expectant look, as if he’s waiting for the punchline, but she doesn’t have any to give him. “Veronica, you’re one of the best people I know.”

Rather than making her smile, he makes it harder to breathe. She thinks she’s going to cry again.

“I’m not just saying that, either.” He insists. “’Cause you can be a right bitch when you want to be and you know it.”

It makes her shoulders jerk in a small laugh.

“I don’t know.” She sighs as she turns her head, feeling blood rush into the ear she’s just freed, before she traps the other one. “Everything around me is rotten, so how do I know if I’m good at all or just less rotten than them?”

“Look at me, Veronica.” She already is, but she focuses her eyes directly at his and he frowns a little. “Trust me, I’ve known some pretty rotten people in my life, in and out of jail, and you’re not one of them. You get that?”

“No?”

She wants answers, not compliments.

“I don’t know what the hell’s going on with you, V, but I gotta ask. How many people you think I’d just skip off work to sit in a car by the beach without talking? Huh? You’d be about the only one worth getting fired for. Does that tell you anything?”

And maybe that was her mistake. Piz doesn’t know her and has this little fantasy Veronica in his head that doesn’t really resemble the true her at all. But Weevil, he knows. He’s been there for a lot of her shit and he’s never hesitated in calling her on it.

He knows her and maybe she needs that. Maybe it’s about the connection.

“Did you ever wonder about us?”

His brows skyrocket into his forehead.

“What?”

“You and me.” She spells it out, even though she knows she really doesn’t have to. “I mean, you always make crude jokes, but did you ever think about us seriously?”

His tongue drags across his lower lip, as if his mouth has suddenly gone dry, and she sees the flush that crawls up the back of his neck as his hand goes to scratch at it.

“You don’t wanna do this.” He turns the key in the ignition again. “You aren’t doing this, you hear?”

It’s not a denial and she wasn’t really expecting one. He’s too nervous and she can spot his tells as easily as she can when they play cards. His fingers clench around the metal desperately as her hand covers his.

“I do.” It doesn’t even sound like her as she says it, her voice flat and deep all at the same time. “I do want to do this.”

She can’t tell who moves first, maybe it’s him that sighs deeply as if he’s making a big mistake, and maybe it’s her that leans in first, maybe she presses a soft, closed mouthed kiss against the seam of his lips and maybe he responds by bringing his hand up to cup the back of her head.

But all of a sudden it’s deeper than that and she’s gasping as his hand pulls her closer and she grabs at the shelf of his shoulder to steady herself. It’s awkward and needy and the gear stick butts into her hip as she get up onto her knees and climbs over the console.

“Veronica.” It’s a low warning, pleading with her to stop, but his hands slide down her shoulders and settle on the tops of her thighs as she straddles him. “Don’t do this.”

She cups the sides of his face, fingers digging deeply into the hollows of his cheek, trying to pull him closer and deeper and something, anything, but she’s not finding what she wants.

“But you want it.” It’s funny, how hollow she sounds around his tongue as she shifts on his lap. “I can feel it.”

His thumbs squeeze gently on the skin of her thighs, before reluctantly lifting and then his hands are on her shoulders, pushing her back so he can dip his face and look her in the eye.

“V, my fantasies about you have nothin’ to do with hiding in some car down at the beach while Logan Echolls waits for you back home.”

It’s like a slap in the face.

She crumples, face and spine and resolve, and falls forward. He’s so gentle with her as she cries into his neck, running his warm fingers up and down her spine, that it makes her cry harder.

“But you did before.” He stills underneath her and she feels the tendons in his neck tense. “With Lilly. Why?”

“’Cause I was stupid.” It’s a deep grumble, harsh and slightly bitter. “’Cause I was just a dumb kid and so was she. We didn’t know what were doing. And she wanted it that way.”

It’s possibly the most they’ve ever spoken about her before.

“But…?”

She doesn’t finish her question, because he pulls her shoulders back and makes her look at him again.

“And she didn’t care.” He says it without blinking. “But you do, Veronica, and if you do this it’ll just eat you up inside. You’re better than that. And you know it.”

His hands come down to her hips, fingers circling her waist easily and surely as he lifts her up enough to slide out, opening the door and depositing her back in the seat still warm from his body.

“Go back to your boy, V, and work it out, whatever the hell is going on.”

She nods, because there’s no other choice.

“What about you?”

It could be taken any of several ways and she leaves it open for interpretation.

He points to the road.

“Looks like I got a long walk back.” Then he gives her a smile, small and tight and not as awkward as it should be considering what just happened. “Don’t you worry about me, I can take care of myself.”

***

It’s dark and she’s been driving around in circles for hours before she reaches the hotel.

She slides the little card through the slot and the light turns green with a small, tight pop. It’s too easy to open the door without making a sound and she enters the suite, almost grateful to see that it’s dark. In the shadows cast by the lights through the window, she can make out the familiar furniture.

His door is closed and she takes deep breaths to calm herself before she knocks lightly.

“Logan?”

He’s lying in bed, the sheets wrapped around his waist and leaving his chest bare; she can see the slope of his shoulders with his back to her. He groans slightly, low in the dark, and shifts, falling onto his back from his side.

“Hmm?” Then his eyes glitter open, shining in the half-light as he pulls himself up to a sitting position. “Veronica?”

“Yeah.” She takes a step and then another, biting her lip as she moves closer. “It’s me.”

“Where’ve you been? Are you okay?” The questions come quicker as he pushes up and crawls over the bed towards her, practically flying at her. “You weren’t answering your phone and your dad didn’t know where you were…”

His touch is like a brand around her shoulders and she flinches, hoping he didn’t see it.

“I was… I…” She swallows thickly, dropping her head back and looking up at the ceiling for answers. “I just needed some time.”

“Time?” His hand slides around her waist, comfortable and familiar and knowing, and she tries to bite back the guilt. “Time for what? What happened?”

“I just…” She thinks about telling him, then thinks about him getting that look in his eye, disappointed and angry and out for blood. “Logan, do you love me?”

His eyebrows dip in concern as he pulls her closer, bowing his head to touch hers, and she automatically raises her hands, lifting her arms up and around his neck. He cups the backs of her hips.

“You know I do.” He whispers it into the side of her cheek, planting soft kisses on the side of her mouth and face. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

It’s like comfort, the feel of him brushing her hair back and nuzzling up into her. She can’t imagine wanting to be anywhere else. The thought makes her stomach turn and she bites back the cries that she thought were gone. That she spent all night emptying out of herself.

“Hey, come on, Veronica.” He gives her whole body a small, tender little jiggle, as if to wake her up. “Tell me.”

But she can’t, she just grips him tighter, closing her elbows around his neck and pulling herself up into his skin. Her whole body is shaking and she knows he can feel it.

“I love you.” She breathes it into his ear, soft and barely there. “Don’t you ever forget it.”

He grins, she can feel it in the skin of her neck, and everything she does makes it taste bitter and broken.

If she opens her mouth to speak, it’s all going to come tumbling out and she’ll never be able to make it better. So she does the only thing she can think of, she pushes her toes against the floor, leveraging herself against his body, pushing him back towards the bed.

They tumble down onto the mattress and his hands steady her, gripping her hips as she lands on top of him. It’s too close to what she’s trying to forget, so she hooks her ankle around his and flips them over, pulls him on top of her and cradles his hips between her thighs.

“Never, baby.”

It’s a kiss in the middle of her forehead and she thinks it should be a scarlet letter.

He’s slow against her, hands pulling off her clothes and sliding their way across her skin, tripping over places he knows well by now. She knows him, she knows this, and her breathing gets shallow and heated and fast as her hands dig deep into the furrows at the side of his ribs.

“Logan.” She gasps out his name, giving it to him like a present as he nuzzles the side of her neck, sucking at her pulse point, her feet digging into the backs of his thighs. “God, Logan.”

“Don’t. Ever. Do. That.” He punctuates his words with kisses to her face and jaw and neck, with thrusts between her legs. “To. Me. Again. I was. So. Worried. Promise me.”

“I promise.” The words fight out of her throat, rasped and jagged. “Anything, Logan, anything.”

He likes to watch her, peppering small kisses over her face, when she’s close, when she’s coming, his eyes always glow with pride and satisfaction when she does. But she just can’t seem to get there tonight, even though she’s trying, forcing her body to comply.

It’s not working and he knows it.

“Hey Babe.” He slows down, sliding one hand down her cheek. “It’s okay.”

She doesn’t realize she’s crying until she tastes salt on his fingers.

“I’m sorry.” It’s a strangled cry as she pulls herself out from under him. “I… I can’t…”

He reaches for her, but his hand glides off the curve of her hip.

“Veronica!”

She’s too fast and she locks the bathroom door before he reaches it, sliding down onto the cold tile with her back to the door. She can’t look in the mirror, she doesn’t want to see the person who’ll be looking back at her. All she can do is hunch herself down, shivering as she clutches her legs up to her chest.

“Veronica!” Logan’s voice comes through the door, loud and harsh and demanding. “Open the door!”

He can’t see her, but she shakes her head violently, anyway.

It’s a slippery slope and she wonders exactly where it began.

One day ago, she felt her stomach clench around the scent of burning, rubbery eggs as she stared at her father’s empty room. She knew the answers that would spring from his mouth before he even spoke to her. _It makes me feel good about myself_ , _I need this for me_ and the ever popular _It’s not as simple as black and white, you wouldn’t understand_.

But that’s the climax, not the beginning.

She doesn’t understand and she understands all too well.

She wants no part of it.

***  
The end.

Comments? I’d love to hear them.


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